The Dark Side of Comedy
by C1nd3r5
Summary: Class clowns come and go, and you really don't stop to think about what happened to them, until something triggers a memory that makes you struggle to remember their name so you can google them to see what they've made of their life. But every now and again, they will resurface in your life, and you might learn secrets about them that you never suspected.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey everyone, new readers and those who've read my previous story. I know it's been a while, but I want to thank everyone who's read my story and reviewed/favorited/alerted on it while I was writing it, and even after it. And I guess that's the reason why I'm here again. I'm out of practice, but I'd love to get back into writing, and hope that I can create another enjoyable story._

 _So just let me know what y'all think!_

* * *

 _Laugh, and the class laughs with you. But you stay after school alone._

I'm sure we've all met that one person. The Class Clown. Maybe it was in an actual class, maybe it was in real life, but we all know their type enough to recognize them on sight.

Typically they present with a shit-eating grin and an easy atmosphere about them. They're in the midst of a group of people, all of whom are typically laughing at whatever they said. It's contagious really. If you come close to them, you'll find yourself laughing alongside them.

But when you go home, you'd be hard put to describe exactly what was so funny about them. You'd come to the conclusion that they themselves were just a funny person, and keep going back for the laughs.

Then you'd come to the end of your acquaintance, and go your separate ways. Every now and again, you might think back and laugh at the memory of them, and then wonder what became of them. What did they end up doing?

Sometimes you might run into them again. But the world has grown into a big place. Chances are you might not. And even if you do, chances are against you recognizing them, simply because you don't plan to.

So yeah, Aster remembers one Jackson Overland, the class clown of Guardian High.

He just never connected him with the comedic stunt actor Jack Frost.

Not until he saw him in person that is.

And only because the joke Jackson was telling was one that made a fool of Aster himself.

The camera crew was practically wetting themselves laughing as Jackson continued the story, talking loudly, hands waving about like he could take flight any moment.

"And then!" the young man was saying, "Then this football player slammed his hands on top of his desk, turned around, and opened his mouth to yell at me! Only for our old teacher to FINALLY pay attention and shout at him to sit down!"

They all practically fell over laughing. And that was when Aster made his move, grabbing the smaller man by the back of his shirt, and lifting him up out of his seat.

The camera crew stopped laughing as they stared at the large Australian man, gulping. But Jackson only raised his hand to his chin in an exaggerated expression of thinking.

"Hmmm," he said thoughtfully, "Give me a second, I gotta run down the list…no…no, not him either….I think she forgave me for that…and no, no…aHA!" And he twisted his head around with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face that Aster had ever seen. "Hey there, ya big kangaroo!"

Aster promptly dropped him. But that didn't faze the other actor, who merely bounced on the balls of his feet, launching himself into a forward flip (letting his toes just NEARLY brush by the Australian's nose - an accident of COURSE). He stuck the landing, hands in the air, like an Olympic gymnast. I move that surely would have gotten him applause if there wasn't an angry Australian actor looming over him. But Jackson only brushed it off.

"Funny seeing you again," he said, twisting on his heel to face his old classmate, "It's been, what, forever?"

Aster only rolled his eyes and walked away, half-expecting the other man to follow him.

Imagine his surprise when he didn't. Aster was tempted to look back, but decided against it.

No need to encourage the guy.


	2. Chapter 2

_Please don't expect all of the updates to be this fast. As people who read my previous story know too well, I have taken hiatuses before when life interferes. With any luck I can keep them at a minimum this time._

 _Thanks to my first reviewer,_ A Fellow Author _, whoever you may be. I thank you for your kind words about Liquid Nitrogen, and hope that I do not disappoint you in this story._

 _Read on, good friends, read on. Please review and critique me as we go!  
_

* * *

When on set, it's like Jackson is a different person. He keeps to himself, with the exception of his agent coming over every now and again to tell him something in sign language.

Aster was surprised to see that his agent, Tooth (as she liked to be called) not only knew Jackson's agent (Sandy, apparently), but acted like they were the best of friends.

He quickly turned his attention back to Director North, who was booming something about the next scene to the leading lady, who was nodding earnestly. But his eyes were drawn back to Jackson, sitting curled up in his chair, eyes on the floor.

He looks almost, well, sad. If it was anyone except Jackson, Aster would have said so in an instant.

Perhaps even with Jackson, Aster ponders. But every time he considers going over, the other man would be approached by one of the crew, and would brighten up, his typical broad grin stretching across his face.

And then Aster would forget him. Until Jackson catches his eye again. It's almost amazing how forgettable he is when he isn't make a fool of himself.

What happens later that night would make Jack Frost completely unforgettable, though. At the very least to Aster.

They will be shooting late. North will have decided that he wants to go a whole other direction and insist on reshooting scenes now.

In interest of keeping the momentum going, he will then want to move immediately to the action scenes. A reasonable assumption, and one that all of the actors will begrudgingly agree to, after being plied with copious amounts of the caffeine of their choice.

Aster's personal favorite has always been V Double Hit, something that any director worth his salt makes _damn_ certain that it is there waiting for him, preferably with someone immediately available to push a can into his hand the moment Aster shows signs of getting cranky from sleep deprivation.

It's good to be the star.

The thing about stunts is that they're bloody difficult to practice. Near impossible, in fact. The more dangerous the stunt, the more impossible to practice. Mainly because the only way to practice a stunt like that is to actually do it.

Not only are the big stunts extremely expensive to do (such as destroying costly equipment and sets), but everyone in the vicinity is in danger to the point that everything they do is calculated down to the smallest detail.

Think back to an action movie; let's say Indiana Jones' the Lost Ark. Remember the scene with the plane? Not only did the characters have to do typical stage combat where they were throwing punches and hits that had to just _barely_ miss. But they also had to do it with a spinning machine of death circling around them. Not to mention, the explosions being set off around them. One wrong move, and the propellers would have them. One wrong spill and the gasoline would blow them all sky-high.

Even now, with CGI, it's not the same effect as having the actors take these risks for themselves. Or at least their stunt doubles do. There's nothing like a real-life explosion after all. It's the reason why people who see a house on fire gravitate to the perimeter and stare. It's the reason that traffic on the highway backs up whenever there's an accident.

And it's the reason why people like Jack have a job. He started off as a stunt double, and eventually worked his way up to being an actor in his own right, all the while still doing his own stunts, even though the majority of big-name actors don't do their own stunts, mainly because if they get injured, the whole movie stops _cold_.

One shouldn't attempt these stunts unless they are a professional. Though Aster scoffs to associate that word with Jackson Overland.

Aster won't even know what he's doing there. He's not needed, not really. Despite his athletic prowess, E. Aster Bunnymund is too big to risk doing his own stunts. North's insane obsession with keeping the momentum of the scenes going is ridiculous. He could've shot the stuff they needed him for tomorrow, after a good night's rest. All they really need is his stunt double, someone who hasn't been in scene after scene all _bloody_ day.

It really is a good thing North's assistant has done his research and knows to have plenty of carrot cake on hand.

So Aster will have finished his scene with his cocky sidekick, and then will walk off the scene while his stunt double replaces him. During the transition, Jack will stretch, limbering up, prepping for the scene.

It's the classic running from explosions scene, all while smaller explosions are set off around them. Before they start the scene, the two stunt actors will be walked along the path that they _must_ take or else it will be curtains for them.

They will do it a few more times, and then shoot it for real.

With the explosives.

It starts off much the way any scene of this magnitude does. It really will be quite glorious to see, even as Aster feels the heat from the explosions on his face, despite them being hundreds of yards away.

At least, it will be, if Jack doesn't trip.

At first, Aster won't believe that he tripped. Mainly because it won't look like a trip. It will look like an intentional detour into area where Jack damn well will _know_ is going to blow.

Aster's stunt double will notice the misstep and be the only reason that Jack won't die that day, as he grabs the younger man as his leg will catch on fire, and will carry him out of the danger zone at top speed, even as the technicians will do their best to stop the explosions.

Aster will jump to his feet as the paramedics race to meet Aster's stunt double, fire blanket at the ready to smother the flames licking up Jack's legs. He's not moving.

It has to be a trip. He has to stumble.

There's no way there can be any other possibility, no?


	3. Chapter 3

_To:_ A Fellow Author

 _You are too kind. I have only dabbled with my own original fiction, and I am currently stuck in the endless rewrite period. Perhaps if I had more time...but nonetheless. Thanks again!_

* * *

The thick fabric of Jack's jeans had protected his leg from the flames. It was just another accident like any other on the set.

It's one of those things that is expected to happen, hence the reason they had EMTs on set.

They didn't even need to take Jack to the hospital, in fact, the young man is acting like he didn't nearly die (or at least get very seriously maimed). Instead, he is joking around with the EMTs like they are old friends. Then again, for all Aster knows, they just might be.

Something someone said, as the EMTs initially surrounded Jack, something that implied this wasn't exactly a rare event for the stunt actor. That he is rather accident-prone. Not a safe flaw for someone in his career path.

But Jack Frost will live to annoy another day.

And the movie will go on.

Just like it always does.

And as the sound of Jack's laughter fills the set, the unfortunate accident fades into oblivion.

* * *

Men don't wear makeup. This was Aster's firm belief all through high school.

As an actor, however, he had learned there is exceptions to every rule.

That does not mean, of course, that he had to enjoy the ordeal. Word had circulated amongst the makeup artists' community to ignore the scowls and looks of pain on the Australian actor's face. And that the rumors of him punching out an artist who had made his makeup just a _shade_ too heavy were only _slightly_ exaggerated.

He was no Jack Frost by any means, whose only method of peeving makeup artists is that he can never keep his fool mouth shut. It is a new game amongst the artists to toss treats into his mouth to get him to hush his mouth for just a few moments.

It's ridiculous that North didn't bother to get Aster his own dressing room. All the other directors do it. And so he's sitting as they apply the makeup, fuming all the while, all while staring at the seat across the room where Jack was sitting, surrounding by a crowd like always.

If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around, does it make a sound?

If Jack Frost tells a joke and no one is around, is he still funny?

How many licks _does_ it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?

These are questions to which the answers may never be known.

And therefore 'tis useless to waste time pondering such useless questions; especially when one's time is better spent reviewing the choreography and lines for the next scene.

Which really is how actor E. Aster Bunnymund should be spending his time rather than pondering the eccentricities of a nearly-forgotten schoolmate.b Even if nothing is nearly as eye-catching as Jack Frost surrounded by a crowd of gleefully laughing peers.

Therefore, Aster puts in his earbuds and closes his eyes, tilting his head back to give the artist unhindered access to his face.

* * *

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Aster looks up to notice Jack lounging in the set chair across from him.

Aster just rolls his eyes and shifts in his chair so that the white-haired young man is no longer in his direct line of sight.

Too bad his manager confiscated his earbuds, and therefore he unfortunately remains within range of hearing the nuisance.

He braces himself for any number of horrid jokes, but the other actor seems fully content to just sit in relative silence. And as the silence proceeds into uncomfortably awkward territory, Aster finds himself fighting the urge to break the quiet himself. His eye begins to twitch. Where the hell is Tooth?

What could that idiot be up to?

He looks out the corner of his eye, giving up the ghost of indifference in his own mind. But Jack Frost isn't within his vision, and therefore he must turn his head, pretending to be looking for his manager.

Jack sits there, back ramrod straight, much unlike his normal slouched carefree posture. His face seems nearly naked without the broad grin that normally stretches around his head. And his eyes, his bright blue eyes, are dull, locked in an absent gaze that chills Aster to the bone.

But before he has the chance to do much more than process it, the other man blinks, noticing Aster's gaze, and then winks.

"It's rude to stare, Kangaroo."


	4. Chapter 4

**sorry for my super long hiatus everyone! school makes stuff really difficult! but hopefully this new chapter will help?**

 **enjoy please! and let me know what you think!**

 **and sorry for the short chapter :( - and apologies for accidentally re-uploading the first paragraph from the previous chapter, it's fixed now!**

* * *

…

First time is bad luck.

Second time is a coincidence.

Third time, well, I suppose it depends on how closely you're paying attention.

But fourth, fourth comes down to whether or not North's team has been losing their touch on prepping for dangerous stunts. Fourth turns the triple checks into quintuple-checks. Every seam is checked, every piece of equipment is examined.

Props and other equipment are jealously guarded by their minders, just in case some well-meaning fool tries to "help" by adjusting something that truly should have been left alone.

Fifth is a different story altogether.

Fifth is sabotage.

Fifth is the time that Jack's harness breaks.

Fifth is the time that sends him tumbling towards the ground.

Fifth is the time that he doesn't even scream.

The room isn't silent, not by any means, not as the overwhelming horror permeates the crew, but Jack doesn't make a sound. No one would've blamed him if he had yelled, but he was the only one who didn't make a sound as he plummeted towards the ground.

Somehow he manages to grab onto the ledge on the way down, and an audible pop echoes through the room as his shoulder is pulled out of its socket.

If this was part of the movie, he would've winced, but held on anyways, held on until he could either climb up himself, or someone could climb down to help him.

But this is not part of the movie.

Jack doesn't get his dose of cinema magic.

He cannot hold on, he releases his grip.

The resounding snap echoes through the room as he hits the ground.

The screaming stops.

Aster only catches a glimpse of the broken figure on the ground before the EMTs arrive, shooing the cast and crew away, forming a barricade of their bodies and medical equipment around him.

The room is too silent.

After the previous accidents, the shock was dispelled by the sounds of Jack's jokes. His carefree laughter ringing out, almost too soon for the joke to truly be funny. If anyone else had laughed, they'd be rebuked for laughing at someone's pain and suffering. No matter how funny it truly is. But as the victim, Jack was permitted to diffuse the tension with his hardy laugh.

But the only sound now is heavy breathing.

His own?

The person next to him?

It should've been cheesy, that's all Aster can think of.

If this had happened in a movie he was watching, he'd have snorted coke up his nose, and his eyes would currently be watering at the searing acidity of it. Nevertheless, he'd be laughing at the overdramatic utilization of the silence, the filmmakers' attempt at imposing a blanket of somber quiet over the audience.

And in doing so, destroying the illusion himself.

Might've even thrown some popcorn at the screen. Right before being chastised by a friend for producing extra work for the theatre-workers.

It's such an overused piece of junk. He practically dies of laughter whenever it's used in one of his movies.

Let's just say that those scenes always take extra shoots with him. And on more than one occasion, they'd put his stunt double in instead, when the director got sick of retakes because the lead WOULD NOT stop chortling.

Because of course the hero is alright; the hero is always alright. The only time the hero isn't alright is if the show is stuff like Game of Thrones.

But most movies, most shows, they aren't like that. The main character is always fine. The bad guys come down with a bad case of the Stormtrooper effect. The bomb waits until they are just barely out of reach to go off.

They have developed an immunity to the iocane-type obscure poison of choice.

They suddenly become an expert in swordplay, or martial arts.

They can fall for several hundred feet and not die.

There are a few differences here, Aster supposes.

Importantly, this is real life.

But even more importantly is this.

Jack is not the hero of this story.

Which mean his plot immunity is practically non-existent.

And that is the difference between looking at this same event through a screen versus now, with no barrier in between them.

Jack may even already be dead.


	5. Chapter 5

_What's this? An update? No, it can't be. How long has it been since the last one, after all? Hope everyone enjoys it! Please review!_

 _(Here's hoping I don't disappoint anyone!)_

* * *

Something many people don't realize is that every joke has a finite lifetime. Sometimes it's a few days. Sometimes it's a few hours. Sometimes you wake up one morning and discover that your favorite joke ever really has never _ever_ been _really_ that funny after all.

Most of the time, the lifetime of a joke gets shortened with every retelling; as more and more people here the joke, they stop waiting for the punchline to drop. The comedians stop telling it when they stop getting the uproarious applause. After all, what's the point of a joke if it cannot make at least one person smile? And then it is almost forgotten. Maybe someone a few years down the road might bring it up, and share a few chortles with some friends, but it's a limited process, more akin to a séance than a resurrection.

This, my friends, is how a joke dies. Not with thunderous applause, but in silence and solitude, forgotten by the very minds that made it great in the first place.

Apparently the joke about how Jackson got Aster in trouble in the middle of class is fucking immortal.

At least, that's the only explanation for how Jack has the cute red-headed doctor in stiches.

"Ah, and speak of the devil himself!" Jack catches sight of the burly Australian and waves him in, "Anna, I'd like you to meet Aster Bunnymund. Kangaroo, Dr. Arendelle."

She just rolls her eyes at the remark, though her face is scarlet, from laughter or embarrassment, the curse of the redhead is unclear. But she stays professional, reaching out her hand to shake.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bunnymund."

He gives her a lazy grin as he shakes her hand, pleasantly surprised at the firmness of it. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a young nurse stop and stare at him, her eyes wide, as she absent-mindedly continues her work. He flashes her a grin too; always good to stay on the good side of the fans.

She blushes, before ducking out of sight of the doorway.

"Now, now," he hears the doctor's voice turn stern, and he turns to see her looking levelly at him, despite being at least a foot shorter, "I won't have you bothering my nurses when they're on duty, understand? Famous or no, I won't hesitate to have you banned from the hospital."

He gives her credit for trying to be intimidating, he really does. Not her fault she's too small to really pull it off.

So he just shrugs at her, giving his most charming smile, "Don't worry, I'll be good."

Surprisingly, it fails. She just quirks an auburn eyebrow, before turning back to Jack.

"Jack?"

Somehow he gets the feeling that she's asking him if he wants her to eject Aster from the room. He grits his teeth a little at this. The sheer nerve of the doctor. What's worse is that Jack seems to be pondering it, playfully at least, in his exaggerated way.

"No, I'll let the bunny stay," he eventually grins, "There's always the ability to toss him out later."

She nods, and turns to leave, but Jack calls her back.

"Anna?"

"Yes?"

"I don't mean to be rude or anything," he's quiet, for once, as he talks, "And I appreciate everything you and the hospital is doing for me, but would it be alright to call in my normal doctor? He'll have heard about this one, and want to check me out for himself. I don't want to step on any toes though…"

Anna nods at him, "I think we can allow that. Just give me his contact information, and I'll have one of the secretaries give him a ring."

Jack is ready with a business card, and passes it over to Anna, who absent-mindedly slips it into her pocket. She nods at him, and leaves to deal with her other patients.

She leaves the two of them alone in the room together.

Alone.

Aster has never been alone with Jack. Not ever. Not really. Just the two of them off to the side of a large group, that's the closest they've ever been.

Alone, Jack looks frail. Transparent. Like a ghost with that strangely white hair.

Jack could never have passed for handsome, not truly. Not after being relegated to comic relief. His eyes were too big, his ever-smiling mouth too wide, his face altogether too round. He simply wasn't leading role material.

But right now, right now was the first time that Aster had ever seen Jack in a way that made him see a different role for him.

A frail prince sort of character, more seen in the anime and manga that Aster would only admit to reading on his deathbed.

He didn't like it.

"Yo, kangaroo, if you frown any harder you're going to get wrinkles."

Aster gives a snort at that, and Jack grins in response.

"Hey, I'm just trying to look out for your fans. They'd be inconsolable if you got a wrinkle. It would mean they'd have to admit you're twice the age of most of them and an old man besides."

The Australian quirks an eyebrow, "If I'm an old man, what does that make you?"

Jack's smirk grows bigger, if that is even possible. "Why, I'm a youth myself! Prime of my life and all that junk."

"You're two years younger than me."

"Even one year is an awful long time, I've found."

The conversation peters off.

Aster cannot think of a response. Something in Jack's tone stalls him.

And Jack doesn't seem interested, for once, in filling the silence himself.

And so they sit there, as the silence stretches out around them.

Silence only punctuated by the steady beep of the monitor.

 _Beeeeeep._

It's the type of silence that directors always want. A suffocating silence.

 _Beeeeeep._

The silence that is never truly quiet, not on his end at least. The set is always alive, always noisy.

 _Beeeeeep._

You can hear the director calling for them to change the atmosphere, for expression changes.

 _Beeeeeep._

Arguably, the silent scenes are the noisiest, because the sound will be cut out anyways.

 _Beeeeeep._

There's no true need to be quiet doing the scene.

 _Beeeeeep._

In fact, sound makes it alive.

 _Beeeeeep._

In movies, if the person looks like they're screaming, then in reality they are.

 _Beeeeeep._

If they look like they're crying loud messy sobs, they are.

 _Beeeeeep._

Silence, true silence, is completely out of place on a movie set.

 _Beeeeeep_

And awkward silences are nonexistent.

"Jack! I've got your stuff from your last stay…" the nurse trails off as her eyes catch on Aster and go wide as she clutches the bundle close to her chest.

 _Last stay?_

"Thanks Abigail." If Aster didn't know better, he'd say that Jack's voice sounded... _tense_. "If you'll just set them over here near me?"

She scurries over and does so, before rushing out of the room as though the hounds of hell are after her, but Aster doesn't notice.

He's focused on one thing.

 _Had Jack left these here because he had planned on coming back?_

Aster sneaks a glance. The stunt man's face seems it's usual happy self. But are his eyes more open than usual? Does his smile really reach them?

Jack catches his look. "Being a stuntman isn't the safest profession in the world you know." He gives this explanation as though it answers everything, as he shoves the bundle under his pillow, out of sight.

And it should.

It really should.

Mostly because it's not his business.

Aster isn't Jack's friend. He's the butt of Jack's jokes. He has every reason to dislike the guy. He doesn't even know why he's here.

If this was a movie, this would be some sort of heart-to-heart between the sidekick and the hero that would make them a stronger team. Where the hero would promise to trust the sidekick and leave their personal affairs alone.

But this is not a movie.

And Aster is fucking curious.


	6. Chapter 6

_So, school has kept me extremely busy, and part of me has forgotten where I'm going with this story (if not that this story exists), but I got a charming review today that reminded me a little of all of that, so I finished a chapter I've been sitting on. Not as polished as I would like, but I hope everyone will forgive me for that._

 _So to the people who actually like this story, hope you enjoy, and please review and give me feedback!_

* * *

No one has asked Aster why he's there the next day. So he hasn't had to come up with an excuse.

No one does the next day either. He doesn't know why he's there himself.

But he's there to see a terrified-looking nurse come stumbling out of Jack's room, looking as though she had seen the great bogeyman himself.

As he shoulders his way into the room, he sees an impossibly tall and thin man, standing there, looking as much as though he were part of another realm of reality as Jack. He is leaning over Jack's bed, talking to him in a hushed voice.

The man straightens up as he notices the intruder. Aster realizes with a pang of annoyance that the stranger is taller than him.

"This is a private conversation."

As an actor, Aster cannot help but be amazed by the man's diction, his perfectly clipped words, the projection that has his low, quiet voice filling the room with ease.

As a hot-headed Australian, he is more than a little ticked off at the condescension in the other man's tone.

There's just something about this man that makes Aster immediately want to punch him in the face.

Fortunately, Dr. Arendelle appears just in time to stop him, mainly out of shock for her response to the visitor.

The nurses are all stealing glances as they walk by, frightened, concerned, their eyes focused solely on the tall, dark man. Whereas Dr. Arendelle's grin is bigger than he'd ever seen it (granted, most of the time he saw her she was frowning at him) as she strides into the room.

"Dr. Pitchiner! Oh, wow, it is such an honor to meet you," she extends her hand for him to shake as she talks, "Jack, oh, I mean, Mr. Frost, well, he didn't mention that _you_ were his PCP." She keeps pumping his hand up and down as she talks.

The man, Dr. Pitchiner, looks a little taken aback at such a warm welcome, as he shakes her hand in response.

Jack rolls his eyes, "I gave you his contact info."

She shoots him a fast glare. But to everyone's surprise, it is Dr. Pitchiner who reaches forward, and swats Jack lightly on the top of his head.

"Manners." That is all he says on the subject.

Dr. Arendelle clears her throat, regaining her professionalism, "Dr. Pitchiner, if you would be so kind, there's some information I would like to discuss with you?"

He nods. "Of course, Dr…?"

"Arendelle. But we're colleagues, please call me Anna."

A small smile twists at the edge of the tall man's lips, so slight Aster isn't quite certain he sees it except that he is on the edge of the action and is trying desperately to catch up to the conversation.

"Then please, call me Kozmo."

…

Filming is still on hold, so Aster once again finds himself back at the hospital. The doctors and nurses have come to accept him as a tentative fixture. Most of the time he just sits in his room and looks over the script, running a few lines with Jack.

Jack messes with him from time to time, but mostly is a good sport about running his lines. He even lets Aster sit in on visits from the nurses and Dr. Arendelle (though he's fairly certain that the younger actor had coached them all on not saying anything too specific to the times that Jack had ended up there before).

"You're the best, Anna."

She pauses in her physical examination to look at him quizzically.

"I do know that, but…"

"Most people don't respond quite so well when they meet him."

"Him?"

"Koz."

A wide grin spreads over her face, "Oh, Dr. Pitchinier! He's practically a legend! I've read every article he's written!"

Jack turns his head and coughs lightly into his fist, "Fangirl."

Aster agrees. Textbook fangirl. He has plenty of experience on his own in recognizing the breed. Though why she'd be a fangirl for that…that…Tim Burton-movie reject is beyond him.

She responds by slightly flicking his shoulder, "Dr. Fangirl to you, buddy."

"Fangirl?" a dry voice comes from the entryway.

She spins around, sending her clipboard skidding across the floor to stop at his feet. Dr. Pitchinier bends over, a slow graceful motion as he scoops it off of the floor and then returns to his normal perfect upright posture.

He cocks his wrist to glance at the clipboard. "Anna, I believe this is yours?"

"Um…yes, yeah, that's mine Dr. Pitchinier! Um, sorry about that!"

He smiles. To any other onlooker, it would look fairly malicious. To Aster, it looks like pure evil incarnate. But to Jack, or anyone who know him and therefore knows that every single motion that Dr. Kozmotis Pitchinier makes looks sinister to some degree, it's a soft smile, a smile of the slightly amused.

"Anna, I thought we'd covered this already. Call me Kozmo, I insist." He finishes crossing the room to hand the clipboard off to the blushing redhead. "I must say, I'm very impressed with your records on him. I know Jack is a very difficult patient to keep track of."

She just gives a little laugh, scratching the back of her neck sheepishly. "Ah, he isn't that bad."

"No, don't hold yourself back, Anna, he's truly a horrible patient. Can't keep still if it'd kill him." As he talks, Anna places the clipboard on the bedside table, and they all seem to forget about it.

Aster doesn't. He's surprised no one noticed him looking at it, as though it contained all the answers to the universe.

Which it doesn't, of course. All it holds is the answer to the current question digging a hole into his brain.

What the hell is going on with Jack Frost?

* * *

 _(P.S. to a guest reviewer, Dr. Kozmotis is one of my favorites too, if you haven't noticed!)_


End file.
